Today is a day of self-reflection, drizzle, clouds, and planning for the future. I take an hour to improvise freely, thoughts escaping, my eyes closed, and noting only the movements of my left hand.
While drawing away on this quiet day, what should appear on my page but an absurd image of an overburdened, blind, and emasculated rhinoceros?
I think of Ionesco and his lessons about the dangers of conformity. Or rather, for me, the friction of resistance.
I think of the immoral criminality of poachers who steal much more from us than an object when they take a rhino's horn. I think of the acquisitive, global, industrial expansion that continually pressures natural resources and endangers species, eventually including our own.
How large has the disconnect grown between what I consume daily in my seemingly isolated world of energy comforts and the living things I love on Earth?
And just to put a positive spin on things and a hope for the future, instead of Ionesco's metamorphosis being an indicator of joining the herd, what if for once, turning into a rhinoceros was a metaphor for a person becoming vulnerable, tolerant, and sharing?
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